His Human Vessel: An Alien Warrior Romance (Zandian Masters Book 5) Read online

  His Human Vessel

  Zandian Masters, Book 5

  By

  Renee Rose

  Copyright © June 2017 His Human Vessel by Renee Rose

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Published in the United States of America

  Renee Rose Romance

  Editor:

  Kate Richards, Wizards in Publishing

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book contains descriptions of many BDSM and sexual practices, but this is a work of fiction and, as such, should not be used in any way as a guide. The author and publisher will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from use of the information contained within. In other words, don’t try this at home, folks!

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  A Note from the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Want FREE Renee Rose books?

  Read all the Books in the Zandian Masters Series!

  His Human Slave (Book 1)

  His Human Prisoner (Book 2)

  Her Alien Masters (Captives of Pra'kir Book 3)

  Titles by Renee Rose

  Chapter One

  The restraints around Bayla’s wrists kept her from rubbing her nose.

  In dim awareness, she tried to move her hand again to relieve the itch, but it caught, yanked against an unyielding strap.

  With a sharp inhale, she jerked fully awake as the memory of the huge horned alien with an injector gun rushed back. He’d shown up at the fertility farm where she and sixty other human females had been enslaved and bought her following a brief inspection. Then, without a word to her, he'd pressed the device to her neck, and everything had gone black.

  She blinked at the light and took in her situation. She was naked, strapped down to an examination table by leather cuffs. The alien, who was not an Ocretion, the species who’d taken over Earth and enslaved all humans, wore a white lab coat and stood near a window with his back to her. This being was taller than humans or Ocretions, and he had purple-hued skin and eyes. He spared a glance over his shoulder at her sudden movement then turned back to what he was doing.

  His silent treatment irritated the hell out of her. Did he not speak Ocretion? No, he must. She’d heard him speaking to the fertility farm slave masters when he’d bought her.

  She licked her dry lips. “What are you doing with me?” Her voice cracked from lack of use.

  The alien turned and walked to her side, a needle in his hand.

  She flinched when he approached, but, with the restraints, couldn’t move. “Did you hear me? Can you tell me what’s going on?”

  He ignored her and pinched the skin at the crease of her elbow, inserting the needle then drawing a vial of blood.

  She looked away, her stomach queasy. Although she’d been bred and raised for nothing more than this purpose—to have her body poked and prodded, inseminated and vacated over and over again, she still hadn’t grown used to it.

  She attempted to distract her mind as he fit a second vial to the tube. The lab room was small but bright. The window was unusual—she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen one like it. It didn’t let in much light, but a skylight in the ceiling somehow magnified sunlight through a crystalline structure, casting beams throughout the room. In fact, there didn’t appear to be any artificial light in use at all.

  Having spent most of her life in a metal box with no natural light, she found it a profound improvement. It would be almost cheerful if she weren’t naked and strapped to a table. With no clue what was going to happen to her.

  “Where are we? How long was I out?” she tried again, but still the alien ignored her.

  He walked away, and she allowed herself to look at her arm, now neatly bandaged.

  “Hello? Can you hear me?”

  He turned. Despite the alien features, she found him exceptionally handsome, but that was probably the fertility drugs talking. He was tall and broad-shouldered. His skin was purple-ish peach and smooth, his hairless jaw square. The horns on the top of his head gave him a rugged appearance.

  “Is it customary where you came from for a slave to speak before she is spoken to?” He sounded more curious than angry.

  A flush of something foreign rippled through her at his rebuke. She couldn’t be embarrassed, could she? Did she really care what this horned alien thought?

  She kicked up her chin. “Normally, I am informed immediately what is expected of me,” she said primly, as if she lived to serve her masters.

  “Ah. I see. Very well. I shall inform you. I am Daneth, master physician for the Prince of Zandia. You will call me Master. You will maintain silence unless I speak directly to you, especially if others are in our midst.”

  She feigned remorse and lowered her eyes. “Yes, Master. What will Master use me for?”

  “Our species lacks females of breeding age. I purchased you as a vessel to implant and grow a Zandian young.”

  The familiar wave of nausea and dread filled her. Not another pregnancy. She couldn’t bear to have another baby taken from her arms. Of course, this one would be an alien, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. She hoped conception would be a long and difficult process. She needed time to steel herself for another loss.

  “In addition to your silence, I expect your complete obedience and respect. Any defiance will be immediately punished.”

  It wasn’t anything new. Every slave master demanded the same, and yet, from him, it sounded halfway exciting. Perhaps that was only because she was naked and immobilized when he gave the pronouncement. What orders would she have to obey?

  “Will I be sexually serving you?”

  The doctor’s brows flew up, and he dropped the test tube he’d been shaking. It rolled under her bed.

  Had she flustered him?

  He bent to pick it up, and, when he stood, he’d composed his face. “That won’t be nec—” His eyes fell on her mouth and stayed there. She swore his horns stiffened and tilted in her direction. He cleared his throat. “No.” His voice sounded thick.

  Her gaze dropped to his crotch, where the bulge of his cock seemed to grow for her.

  When he noticed her focus, annoyance flashed over his face and his shoulders stiffened. He turned back to the counter, where he appeared to be running tests on her blood samples.

  So. Her hot alien master found her attractive. To her surprise, that pleased her. Was it because he didn’t seem to welcome the attraction? For the first time, she had a bit of leverage on a master. He may not want to act on his attraction, but, as a breeder, she’d be
en trained to satisfy, and she had no doubt she’d get him to cave.

  Based on the way her nipples stood up as she contemplated her seduction, she doubted pleasing him would be much of a hardship.

  He muttered to himself in what sounded like a voice log of her test results. “Estrodial, 25 to 75 picograms per milliliter, progesterone...”

  “Will I sleep in your bed?” She began her cock-tease.

  He whirled, his skin turning a darker purple. When his gaze fell on her erect nipples, he blinked rapidly. He referenced the cuff he wore on his arm, which had some kind of readout. “That idea arouses you?”

  What did that cuff tell him? She hated having her game turned back on her. She shrugged, affecting cool indifference. “Not particularly.”

  He tilted his head, studying her. She didn’t love his attention, this time, though, because it was definitely more curious scientist than interested male. “I understand humans have a different sense of truth than my species, but this is your first and only warning. I will punish every lie.”

  Something tightened in her belly and loosened between her legs. Heat uncoiled there, swirling and pulsing.

  ~.~

  Beautiful as she was, Daneth hadn’t expected to be turned on by his new slave. She was his test subject, nothing more. He’d examined both the prince’s human mate and her mother without having any physical reaction to their nudity or inherent femininity, but this one...this one was different.

  Just the sight of her sprawled out on his table, her dark brown hair fanned out around her head in glossy waves, sapphire blue eyes mesmerized, made his pulse quicken. She had a full, wide mouth, designed to suck a male’s cock. Her lush body was soft in all the right places. Ample breasts to feed a baby. Wide hips would carry the larger Zandian young easily.

  Unlike Lamira and her mother, who had been half-starved on the agrifarm where they’d worked, Bayla had been kept inactive and given decent nutrition—everything necessary to make her an excellent breeder. He’d chosen her exactly for this reason. He’d run a search on the genes of every being in the galaxy, and she came up as the best suited for his project.

  But those full ripe breasts taunted him now. He longed to weigh them in his hands, squeeze her nipples and test whether he could bring her to orgasm through breast stimulation alone. Though he hadn’t had practical experience in over twenty solar cycles, and even then, very little, he’d studied up on the arousal and sexual satisfaction of human females. He’d shown Zander how to pleasure his female.

  It didn’t help that she actually seemed to desire his sexual interest. He could only attribute it to the fertility drugs she’d been on for the past six solar cycles, since she’d been placed on a human breeding farm.

  Still, he needed to maintain a distance from her. She was his subject for the most important experiment of his life. He would not complicate things by seeking pleasure from her. While he was sure it wouldn’t happen to him, he’d seen the way his stoic ruler, Prince Zander, had been utterly changed when placed in contact with his human mate, Lamira. Normally calm and rational, Zander had become as emotional as his human female, easily angered and jealous. So had Seke, the Zandian Master at Arms, when he’d mated Lamira’s mother Leora. Even Lundric, their chief of security, had killed a human over his new mate, Cambry. It would be important for him to maintain his rational sensibility with Bayla.

  But now, as his cuff reported her arousal levels growing by the second, he had to force back the foreign sensation of lust. Why did she lie about her arousal? It didn’t make sense to him. “Bayla, you need not fear me if you tell the truth. I am a fair master and you are safe here.”

  She struggled with her restraints.

  He touched her shoulder, steeling himself against the softness of her skin, the scent of her arousal. “Be at ease. I don’t wish you to hurt yourself. Your examination is not yet done.” He snapped on a set of protective gloves, the best money could buy. The fit was so tight and the protection so thin, he should be able to sense everything as if his hands were bare. He rubbed two fingers over her slit, seeking the entrance.

  They tucked easily inside her.

  “Natural lubrication present and plentiful,” he reported to the data recorder on his cuff.

  Her breath quickened, and she squirmed beneath him.

  He frowned and gave a quick shake of his head.

  She went still.

  Good. He didn’t want to have to punish her, though he’d already threatened it. But, already, she seemed better trained and more obedient than the prince’s mate had been. Of course, Bayla had been house trained to service males.

  For some reason, that idea made him grit his teeth.

  Odd. It wasn’t like him to experience emotions of any kind. Would he become as possessive and jealous as Prince Zander had? Perhaps something in the human genome activated some emotional center in the Zandians. It might make an interesting study in the future.

  He palpated along the front wall of her cavity, using the hand outside her to press down on her belly. “No irregularities. Wall thickness normal.”

  His cuff blinked her climbing arousal rate. She’d gone from 30 percent to 70. Her breath had quickened, making those exquisite breasts move up and down.

  His cock swelled in his pants.

  Perhaps he should test her sexual response rate. He would need to know if she couldn’t orgasm, as it could affect the implantation.

  He withdrew his fingers and reinserted them.

  Bayla’s eyes widened, and her pretty red lips parted in surprise.

  His thumb found her clit, and he rubbed it as he scooped his digits in and out of her.

  Her tiny cry turned his cock rock hard. Her breath rate sped up even more, her soft belly fluttering up and down while her thighs tightened in the restraints.

  He pumped quick and fast, making short thrusts inside her, sliding his thumb over her clit every time.

  Ninety percent aroused.

  When she moaned, he switched up the rhythm, reaching deep inside her to find the nerve bundle on her inner wall that connected with the clitoris. She cried out, sounding almost agonized, but his cuff blinked 100 percent aroused.

  Her walls contracted around his fingers, squeezing and pulsing so hard it almost pained him not to have his cock inside her instead.

  “Healthy orgasmic function.” His voice sounded lower to his ears as he spoke the report.

  He waited until her shudders subsided then eased out and disposed of the glove. Without thinking, he brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. The gesture seemed easy and natural, though he’d never had a female of his own. Bayla was not his mate, but he supposed a desire to care for her made sense, as she was his responsibility. He required her health and well-being for his project.

  Bayla licked her lips. They were dry.

  Veck. He should have noticed that earlier.

  “You wanted to use your cock inside me, instead, didn’t you?”

  Her words sent an unpleasant jolt of shame through him, as if he’d been caught masturbating by a teacher or some other such scenario. Anger followed close behind.

  “You will remain silent unless you’re spoken to,” he snapped.

  “Your cock is hard for me,” she murmured, wriggling against her bonds and somehow managing to look like the most exotic creature in the galaxy. Already, the scent of her arousal had filled the room, affecting him like a drug.

  “Enough.” Control slipped from him, like she had somehow become his master, though she was the one naked and bound. If she pushed any more, he would snap. He would veck that inviting pussy into oblivion and back.

  And that was absolutely wrong. Being out of control with his slave would cloud his judgment. The survival of his species depended on him having a clear head with Bayla.

  “What are you afraid of, Master?”

  He gritted his teeth and fetched a leather paddle from the box of implements he’d ordered in preparation of owning a slave. “Release ankle cuffs,” he command
ed, and the rings that held her ankle cuffs to the bed sprang free. He picked up her feet and pulled them high into the air, exposing her backside and the swollen lips of her sex.

  Smack. He brought the leather paddle down crisply across her buttocks. “I told you not to speak out of turn.” He slapped her again. The leather was pliable and thin enough to leave a surface sting without causing much damage. He considered it to be the lightest implement of punishment in his arsenal, apart from his hand.

  Even so, she jerked with each slap, her lovely ass bobbing. He hadn't expected the sharp satisfaction he experienced disciplining her. He’d expected her training and punishment to be a nuisance he’d have to endure in order to have her body at his disposal for his experiment.

  He brought the paddle down with quick, sharp strokes, over and over again. By fourteen, she caught her breath enough to plead.

  “Please,” she gasped, still bending her knees to pull against his hold on her ankles. He could have attached them to a cord on the ceiling, but he’d been too irritated to take the time.

  Which, again, wasn’t like him at all.

  This human might be more than he bargained for.

  “Master, please. Ouch! I’m sorry!”

  Twenty strokes. Thirty. He stopped and examined her punished bottom. “Thirty strokes with the leather paddle produces pink coloring on buttocks,” he reported to his cuff.

  Forty percent aroused, it blinked back at him.

  Oh yes. He remembered that from Zander’s mate. Punishment produces arousal in a certain percentage of human females. An odd quirk in human sexuality.

  He stared at the nectar glistening along her swollen sex. Vecking beautiful. “Subject aroused by punishment.”

  Bayla’s head jerked up in surprise.

  He arranged her knees open, the soles of her feet together. She held the position for him, head still lifted from the bed, watching him with an intensity that made his heart expand in his chest.